


Take My Hand, Come With Me

by DRHPaints



Category: Bill Hader - Fandom, Doc Now - Fandom, Documentary Now - Fandom, Documentary Now! (TV 2015), Jerry Wallach - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Boss/Employee Relationship, Cinderella Elements, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, One Shot, Oral Sex, Pining, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:20:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26397805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DRHPaints/pseuds/DRHPaints
Summary: Head Costume Designer for Pinnacle, plain and unassuming Alana has admired studio head Jerry Wallach from afar for ages. When the studio throws a masquerade ball for all employees, Alana turns up in a handmade gown and mask, encountering Jerry in a way she never thought possible.
Relationships: Jerry Wallach/Original Female Character
Kudos: 8





	Take My Hand, Come With Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Unlikelybeardsublime1212](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unlikelybeardsublime1212/gifts).



> For those who are curious, the title comes from a lyric in the song ‘Cinderella’ by Mac Miller ft. Ty Dolla $ign

Reinforcing the stitching around the feather cuff, Alana hunched over her sewing machine, tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth in concentration. Pulling the sleeve free, she held the spangly dancer’s costume up and admired her handiwork for a moment before, setting it down, she winced, arching her body backward over her chair, hearing three deep cracks from her fatigued spine.

“Had enough for one day yet?” Marianne called over. Marianne, her assistant of the last three years, was constantly trying to get Alana to take it easy, to slow down, but as of yet she hadn’t succeeded.

Alana shook her head. “No, I’d like to finish all the pieces for that big musical number they’re doing in studio six on Friday. I know Mr. Wallach is really counting on that picture.”

“Oh well, if Mr.  _ Wallach _ wants it done then we’d better hurry.” Marianne glanced at her knowingly. 

Rolling her eyes, Alana picked up the next garment. “Stuff it.” It was a less than-well-kept secret in the costume department that Alana, the Head Designer, had a massive crush on studio head Jerry Wallach. Luckily, the other ladies didn’t have loose lips, but they did enjoy teasing her from time to time.

A hemline was giving her particular difficulty, forcing Alana to rip out the stitches and try again, when a hand landed on her shoulder, startling her to the point that she pricked her finger and nearly tumbled out of her chair.

“Oh, I’m sorry, dear!” Sucking her index finger into her mouth and turning, Alana’s eyes went wide. Jerry Wallach’s tall form was looking down at her, brow furrowed and half smiling as he tilted his head. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Finger still in her mouth, Alana shook her head and her arm went with it, then she realized how ridiculous she must look and dropped her hand. “N-no...no problem, sir.” She swallowed. “How can I help you?”

“Well, you see…” Jerry peeled off the jacket of his smart, light gray suit, exposing his crisp white undershirt and suspenders that only served to further highlight his already expansive shoulders. “I’ve lost a button on my coat, just here.” Draping it over one arm, Jerry held it out for her inspection and tapped at the open area. “I was wondering if you by chance had a match lying around.”

“Oh.” Alana went to reach for the jacket, then paused. “Wait, hang on, sir, I don’t want to get blood on it. Let me...let me just get something for this.” Holding up her finger, she looked around.

Blinking, Jerry reached for her hand. “Blood?”

“Oh, um...yes, sir.” Alana willed herself not to shake as his long fingers encircled her own, inspecting. “When you, um...when you snuck up behind me there I...I accident got myself with a needle, you see.”

Jerry frowned. “Oh, well we can’t have that.” Flipping the jacket over in his arms, he withdrew his white pocket square and went to wrap it around Alana’s fingertip when she held out a hand.

“Oh, sir, no!” She shook her head. “You’ll never be able to get the stain out. You’ll...it’ll be ruined.”

Eyes focused on her finger, Jerry shook her head. “Don’t worry. I have dozens more just like it.” Wrapping it tight, he grinned. “There. Just hold it on there for a while. Should stop soon.”

“Oh...alright.” Alana stared up into his pretty cobalt eyes. “Thank you, sir.” A moment passed in which Alana did nothing more than look into his handsome face before Jerry leaned down a little.

“So...do you think you have a button?”

Bringing a hand to her forehead, Alana felt like an ogling idiot. “Oh, right. Yes, I bet I can find something, sir. Just give me a minute.” Bleeding finger secured, she took the jacket from his arms and went to her button drawers. Rifling through, there was a part of Alana that, since she was hidden from view in the stacks of costume supples, was heartily tempted to smell his jacket, just a little to catch the scent of Jerry’s pomade. Or maybe even try it on…

But no, Alana shook herself and continued her search, trying to keep her thoughts professional as she waded through the plethora of gray buttons. “Aha!” Finding a match, she smoothed a hand over her frumpy sweater set, frowning down at herself before scurrying back.

“Got it!” Alana held the desired button up for Jerry’s inspection and he nodded approvingly.

“Excellent. Would you be so kind as to sew it on for me?” He smiled, tilting his head.

Flustered, Alana nodded. “Y-yes. Of course, sir.” Sitting at her desk, Alana selected matching thread and it took her nearly two minutes to get it through the eye of the needle with Jerry hovering directly behind her, but eventually she managed, triple binding the button to make it secure. “There you are, sir.” She passed the jacket back to him. “Good as new.”

“Ah.” Slinking back into it, Jerry shook out the cuffs and grinned. “Thank you very much, Miss…?”

“Sable. Alana Sable, sir.” She nodded so enthusiastically it was as if there were a bolt loose in her neck.

Jerry folded his hands in front of himself. “Very good, Miss Sable. Thank you.” He lifted a hand and glanced around the room.”You ladies have a lovely afternoon.” Spinning on an Italian-loafer clad heel, Jerry strode purposefully from the department.

Staring after him, Alana collapsed in her chair and she heard giggling behind her. “Can it, Marianne.” Growling, she returned to the dancer’s costume she was working on, trying not to let her thoughts drift to Jerry’s sparkling blue eyes.

***

Walking into the coffee room on Friday, the staff was all a twitter and Alana eyed them curiously as she added sugar to her tea.

“Alana, did you hear?” Marianne came up to her, beaming.

Shaking her head, Alana took a sip, burning her tongue and wincing. “No, what’s everyone so excited about?”

“There’s going to be a  _ huge _ masquerade ball Saturday after next!” Clapping her hands, Marianne did a little jump. “Everyone’s invited, the whole studio!”

Alana blinked. “What...even us? The crew and everyone?”

Marianne nodded. “Yes, we all get to go. And it’s all comped. Free food, drinks, the best of the best! It’s going to be so much fun!”

“Wow…” Considering, Alana swallowed. Never one to socialize much, the thought of going to a high class affair, surrounded by not only all of her coworkers, but the stars of the studio, and not to mention, Jerry, was more than a little daunting. Throughout the day as Alana’s hands passed beneath the sewing machine, her mind sifted over options, and when she got home, Alana opened the double doors of her closet.

Reaching to the far left, Alana slid aside her collection of oversized sweaters and shapeless skirts to reveal a black garment bag. Lifting it free, she hung it on the back of her bedroom door, unzipping it to reveal a strapless, beaded teal gown, half finished. It was something Alana began on a whim a few months ago for no real reason other than the pattern came to her in a dream, and it was so beautiful, when she woke her hands couldn’t help but bring it to life. 

Alana threaded the silky fabric through her fingers. She never told anyone about the dress. Or the dream. Not even her best friend, Sandra. Often Alana would think of it before falling asleep, desperately hoping she could tumble into it again somehow. Hazy, everything it it seemed to glitter, to glow, as if Alana were on an alternate plane of existence where the air was knit with silver. Looking down at herself, she was bedecked in the gorgeous teal dress and though she couldn’t see her own face, for the first time in her life, Alana felt beautiful. In a room so large she couldn’t see the ceiling, or perhaps they were under the clouds, Alana peered across the floor and there he was. Jerry. Smiling and outstretching his hand. They danced, but in the dream she couldn’t tell if they were moving or if the room moved around them. Alana sensed bodies circling them, but they were faceless. The only thing that was clear, the only thing that mattered, was Jerry. His oceanic eyes, his slightly crooked smile, the way his large hand felt at the small of her back.

When Alana woke, it was with tears in her eyes. The dream felt so  _ real _ . Knowing that it would never come to fruition, Alana figured the least she could do was construct the gown. But halfway through, laying in the stitches and stringing the beads, Alana started to feel pathetic. When would she ever wear it, anyway? 

But now, staring at the partially completed garment, Alana steeled herself, taking it from the hanger and making the way to her sewing room. She became a woman obsessed, working into the small hours of the night. Back aching and fingers growing numb, Alana couldn’t see the thread by the time the sun was coming up and finally had to admit she would need to continue another time.

Over the next week, Alana spent her hours after work carefully crafting the dress. Each bead, each stitch, each detail put in with precision. Sometimes Alana would take a step back, frown, and tear out an hour’s worth of work, only to start again, determined to forge nothing short of perfection. 

When it was done, Alana stared at it for a moment. After all the hours, all the sweat and concentration, the gown seemed like a living thing laying before her, and there was a part of Alana that was frightened to try it on. Going into her closet, she found her strapless bra. It was white lace, and Alana wore it only once before for a bridesmaid’s dress when Sandra got married. Realizing she didn’t have matching panties, Alana made a mental note to purchase some, and in her boring cotton ones, walked back to the sewing room.

As she stepped into the gown and zipped it up, it was as if she were donning a suit of armor. Looking down at herself, Alana felt confident, strong, and near-invincible, and when she turned toward the mirror, seeing the way the exquisitely cut fabric hugged her curves and the teal made her eyes shine, bringing out the tones in her skin, Alana sincerely felt beautiful.

Taking advantage of the ladies' time away at lunch, Alana sifted through the costume supplies; selecting fabric, boning, ribbon, and sequins. After years of going into her own pocket to pay for supplies when shipments were delayed, or when a specialty product was needed that the studio couldn’t seem to find, Alana didn’t feel guilty. At home, she brought the mask to life, adding a few teal and silver feathers from her own personal stash, and when she put it on with the dress she smiled. 

That is, until Alana took in her lank, shapeless hair and flat features. Frowning, Alana shed the dress, putting back on her comfy sweater, and picked up the phone.

***

“Okay, now,” Sandra leaned her head back over the basin, turning on the water. “We’re going to do a  _ deep conditioning treatment _ , alright?” Scoffing, she wet Alana’s hair and scrubbed something that smelled of grapefruit and chemicals into it. “Really, Alana,  _ what _ do you do with this mop of yours?”

Alana shrugged. “Not much, really.”

“Darling, that is painfully apparent.” Lathering her scalp, Sandra turned off the water and let Alana sit for ten minutes, rattling on about how her husband Tom was spending too many nights playing poker with the boys, before standing again and rinsing her hair clean.

After a trim, during which she heavily chided Alana about the state of her split ends, and Alana didn’t have the heart to tell her she couldn’t remember her last hair cut, Sandra set her hair in rollers. Blowing it dry, Sandra took them out, and encased her in a cloud of hairspray that set Alana coughing so hard she couldn’t imagine why some women did this sort of thing daily.

Hoisting a makeup case the size of a large toolbox onto the counter, Sandra whipped it open, slinging open drawers and cubbies laden with an array of tubes and powders. 

“Holy hell, Sandra…” Alana gaped. “Do we really...I mean, do I really need all of that?”

With a deep sigh, Sandra placed a hand on her arm. “Alana, honey, this…” She gestured at her own painted face. “Does not just  _ happen _ , alright? It takes time, money, and effort. Now, close your eyes.”

An hour later, after being told to look up, suck in her cheeks, and blot her lips, Alana patiently sat while Sandra dragged tips and tools over the surfaces of her face, and finally she spun the chair around.

“Tada!” 

“ _ Whoa. _ ” Alana slid to the edge of her chair. She looked like herself, but  _ not _ herself. It was as if Sandra summoned a creature that lived below Alana’s skin, an ancient Siren rising from the depths peering back at her from the mirror with highlighted cheekbones, bright, colorful eyes in soft shades of blue and green, and pouty peach lips. Hair cascading around her in thick, dark gold waves, Alana was agog.

“Sandra...this,” She shook her head, turning to her friend and pulling her into a hug. “Thank you.”

Patting her back lightly, Sandra pulled away. “Oh, you are  _ so _ welcome. I’ve been dying to doll you up for ages. Now, get out of my mirror so I can touch myself up before we go.” Alana chuckled and went to Sandra’s bedroom to change. Arming herself in the dress, Alana pulled on a new set of teal pumps and, fingering the mask, put it into her purse. 

Peeking out of the room, Alana saw Sandra primping in front of the mirror. She tiptoed carefully to the front door, opening in halfway before calling back. “Hey Sandra, I’m going to head over early, thanks for all your help! See you there!”

Just barely hearing Sandra call out. “But honey, wait! I didn’t even get to see your dress!” Alana closed the door behind her and scurried to her car, turning the ignition and heading to the banquet hall.

Alana watched as people walked in, ranging from the effortlessly glamourous silver screen stars wearing outfits that cost more than the car in which she sat, to teamsters in ill-fitting rented suits, beaming wives on their arms in dresses from Penny’s at best, just happy to be there. Lowering the mask over her eyes, Alana drank in one last deep breath before stepping out. 

The hall was a cacophony of light, sound, and color. Tapestries in rich jewel tones draped over ever surface, each small table glittering with crystal centerpieces and fresh orchids. Waiters wove through the crowd, brandishing trays bearing everything from shrimp cocktail to champagne to caviar. Instant sensory overload, Alana didn’t know where to look, much less where to stand, and for the first few minutes she found herself apologizing profusely as she seemed to bump into someone in the foyer every other step. 

Once Alana stepped onto the main floor though, no one intercepted her. Many eyes turned in her direction, scanning Alana up and down, examining her dress, her covered face. Self conscious, whispers followed her as Alana proceeded further into the room, and despite her nerves she tried to stand tall, strolling to an unoccupied table and accepting a flute of champagne from a passing waiter.

Then she saw him. Jerry. Standing across the room in a knot of executives, even with his face half covered, Alana would recognize him anywhere. In a sharp black on black tuxedo with matching bow tie and mask, he was especially dashing, and panic tightened Alana’s throat when she realized he was staring, not at the band as she previously thought, but at her.

Jerry held up a finger to the circle of men surrounding him, and with one hand in his pocket, the other grasping a drink, he walked toward her. Alarms rang inside Alana and she found she didn’t know what to do with her hands, didn’t know where to look as Jerry drew close, his impressive stature sidling up to her.

“Good evening.” He smiled. Even behind the mask, those deep blue eyes made Alana feel as though he could see through her.

Alana grinned. “Good evening.”

Tilting his head, Jerry narrowed his eyes. “I don’t believe we’ve met, have we?”

Realizing that outside of her dowdy everyday wear Jerry had no idea who she was, and sadly, that even then he might not have known her name, Alana decided to make the best of things. “No, I don’t believe we have.”

“Jerry Wallach.” Extending a large hand in her direction, Alana shook it daintily. “Pinnacle Studio.”

“Nice to meet you, Jerry.” Alana smiled.

Jerry hesitated for a moment, then blinked. “Do you have a name?”

Looking at the ground, Alana chuckled. “I do.”

“Are you going to tell it to me?” Jerry asked. 

Tossing her hair over her shoulder, Alana grinned. “No, Jerry. I don’t think I will.” Lifting the champagne to her lips, Alana eyed him over the rim of the glass.  _ This is too much fun... _

A slow, sexy smirk spread over Jerry’s light pink lips, exposing his rounded, slightly crooked teeth. “Oh really? Is that so?” He took his hand out of his pocket, folding his arm under the other. Alana lifted a shoulder, smiling coyly and continued to nurse her drink. A deep chuckle rumbled up from Jerry’s chest and he shook his head. “How about this?” Body swiveling in close to hers, Jerry looked down into Alana’s face, blue eyes piercing her. “How about we take a spin on the dance floor, and after, you give me at least a hint?”

Alana had to remind herself to breathe. Swallowing, she tried to convey the confident character she was playing for the night. Pursing her lips, Alana nodded. “Maybe. Let’s see how the dance goes first.”

Smiling, Jerry held out his hand and for a moment, Alana thought her fingers might pass right through his. For there was no way, as Jerry led her to the center of the hall, everyone staring as the band ramped up a new song, that this was happening. 

One hand at the small of her back, Jerry’s other clasped hers firmly and he spun her around the floor in a waltz. Warmth of Jerry’s body near, touch of his scent of the air, the sensation of her hand in his, it was better than any dream could be. Alana wasn’t certain she was awake as he twirled her out, lassoing her back in, strong hand gripping her waist as they continued moving.

Trying to follow his steps without getting lost in his eyes, Alana held Jerry’s broad shoulder, beaming at him, the room a blur of color and light. Song drawing to a close, Alana never wanted it to end, but Jerry suggested they get another drink and claim an open table. On the way Alana caught the glares of more than a few of the women at the party, many of whom she assumed wanted to know who this stranger was that caught the attention of the great Jerry Wallach when so many of them put in years of legwork trying to tie him down.

“So…” Jerry motioned for a waiter over Alana’s shoulder. “What’s that name of yours?” The waiter arrived. Jerry ordered a bourbon and Alana a Shirley Temple. As much as she thought another drink might calm her nerves, she wanted to keep her wits about her.

Threading her hair behind an ear, Alana smiled. “Oh, I don’t think one dance warrants that kind of information…”

“Oh, mystery girl, eh?” Jerry smirked, and the way those sultry lips spread beneath his come hither cobalt eyes made Alana want to confess everything to him, but she held firm. “Well, let’s make a deal.” The drinks arrived. Thanking the waiter, Jerry took a sip. “If I guess, will you at least tell me I’m right?”

“Fair enough.” Alana nodded, nursing her Shirley Temple. 

Scanning her, Alana’s cheeks grew hot as Jerry’s eyes gradually returned to her face. “Wait a second…” He snapped, pointing. “Are you the new contract Billy signed? Cheryl...something? You’re doing that big western for us, right?”  _ He actually thinks I’m a Pinnacle Starlet… _

__ Giggling, Alana shook her head. “Nope. Guess again.”

“Hmm…” Jerry scratched his strong chin, and this time Alana noticed how his gaze lingered overlong on her curves. “One of the models in that Avross picture? That huge park scene we shot last week?”

“No.” Alana smiled. “Plus, that wasn’t a name.”

Lifting his hands in exasperation, Jerry smiled. “Well then, I give up.” He leaned on their little table, tilting his head. “Won’t you at least give me a clue?”

“Well…” Alana stirred her drink with the straw, looking down. “I’ll give you one. We actually  _ have _ met before.” 

Blinking, Jerry sat back in his chair. “We have? When?”

Alana wagged a finger in front of him. “Nope. Not telling.” She smiled wickedly.

“Wow.” Jerry shook his head, grinning. “I must be an even bigger fool than people tell me if I forgot about someone like you.” Eyes locking together behind their masks, Alana could see every fleck of color that dotted Jerry’s blue, could see the way the left eye was slightly smaller than the other, and so much of her wanted to reach out and touch him.

“So, mystery woman…” Jerry blinked, taking a swallow of bourbon. “What is it you do here at Pinnacle?”

Alana laughed. “Oh no, don’t try to be slick, Jerry. I know how easy it would be for you to find out my name if I told you that.”

Shrugging, Jerry lifted his glass in salute. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” He finished his drink. “So if you’re not going to tell me your name, or what you do, what are we going to discuss, hmm?”

Leaning forward, elbows on the table, Alana tilted her head. “Why don’t you tell me about you, Jerry? How are you doing?”

“Oh I’m great.” Jerry flashed his toothy smile. “I mean, look around.” Gesturing to the party, which was ramping up now, Alana thought she caught a hint of something in Jerry’s face.

Softening her voice, Alana slid her hand on the table toward his. “How are you  _ really _ , Jerry?”

A faltering twitch. Fault line rising in Jerry’s composed exterior, he turned his body away from the festivities, vast shoulders curling inward. “I guess…” Jerry cleared his throat. “I guess things could be better…”

“What’s going on, Jerry?” Alana looked at him earnestly.

Eyes shifting, Jerry traced the rim of his glass. “Well, I, um...you know, I’ve always wanted to get an Oscar, for the studio…” Tipping his head, Jerry pursed his lips. “And for myself too, if I’m honest. But it just isn’t happening. No matter what, we sink all this money into pictures of every kind; dramas, comedies, epics, war films. Nothing.” Shaking his head sadly, Jerry flicked two fingers in the air to call back the waiter before he continued.

“And, um…” He blinked, clenching his jaw. “I got divorced about a year ago...again...and haven’t been seeing anyone so, I guess I’m just kind of…” Staring straight down at the table, Jerry’s voice was so low Alana almost couldn’t hear him. “Lonely.”

Alana laid her hand on top of his. “Oh Jerry, I’m so sorry. That sounds really difficult.”

With a half smile, Jerry lifted a shoulder. “Thank you.” Drinks arriving, he took a sip and giggled, shaking his head. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this.”

“Maybe…” Heart hammering in her chest, Alana took a risk, stroking Jerry’s hand. “You needed to unburden yourself.”

Looking to the table. Jerry interlaced their fingers. “Yes. Perhaps I did.” Jerry’s dark blue eyes traveled up from their joined hands to Alana’s face. “Would you, um…” He cleared his throat. “Would you like to see more of the hall? It’s quite lovely, actually.”

Taking a deep breath, Alana nodded. “Yes, show me.”

They abandoned their drinks and Jerry led her by the hand, attempting to discreetly duck out behind a gaudy display of flowers and balloons. Pushing on a door handle, once they were on the other side, it was as if Jerry and Alana entered a different world. Beige and silent, their steps echoed in the hall as they walked hand in hand, and Alana found herself yearning for the din of the party to drown out her racing thoughts and insistent pulse.

Jerry led her to a smaller reception room. “We...we use this one sometimes. Just for, you know, smaller affairs.” Opening the door for her, Alana stepped inside and looked around. It was alright, she supposed. Nothing fancy. 

Your basic space for entertaining, but still she felt obligated to say, “Oh yes. Very nice.”

Sensing Jerry behind her, Alana tensed. One of his large hands pulled the hair away from her neck as he lowered his lips to her ear. Words warm and ticklish, Jerry whispered. “ _ Are you going to tell me your name now? _ ”

Breath catching, Alana squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “No.”

Fingers encircled her waist as Jerry’s lips touched her skin. “ _ Are you going to let me make love to you now?” _

“ _ Yes. _ ” Alana exhaled, arm reaching back to hang around Jerry’s neck as he kissed down her neck, a hand coming up to massage her breast over her dress. Leaning her body back against him, Alana craned her neck to catch those light pink lips, mouth opening beneath Jerry’s, his tongue sneaking in to dance with hers. Spinning to face him, Alana draped both arms around his broad shoulders as Jerry’s hands flowed down to her ass, kneading as he walked them backwards to a table. 

When she bumped into it, Alana hoisted herself up, spreading her legs, Jerry immediately notched himself between them, laying her flat, burgeoning erection evident through his slacks as he pressed against Alana’s thigh. Hand behind her back, Jerry began unzipping her dress. “Can I take this off?”

Nodding, Alana leaned back, lifting her hips so he could snake the dress from her body, laying it on the table. Resuming his position between her legs, Alana pushed the jacket from his broad shoulders, unhooking Jerry’s suspenders and undoing the bow tie before hurriedly flying down the buttons of his black shirt with nimble fingers. 

Breaking away from his mouth, Alana panted. “I want to see all of you, Jerry.” Exposing his firm chest, Alana’s fingers played through Jerry’s smattering of dark hair before he tugged his arms loose, casting it aside. Cupping her breasts, Jerry massaged gently before sliding back to unhook her bra and toss it to the floor. Alana unzipped his pants and Jerry shrugged them to the floor along with his boxers, kicking off his dress shoes. 

Staring open mouthed, Alana swallowed hard when she saw Jerry’s massive erection straining below his navel. Long, thick, and pink, it curved slightly to the right, with a pronounced head and light veins, and Alana couldn’t help but reach out to ghost her fingers over it after so long wondering what it might look like.

Half chuckling, Jerry hooked a hand around the back of her neck, fusing their mouths together as he took the waistband of her panties (Alana was extremely grateful she’d taken the time to purchase a matching white lace pair) and peeled them off.

Jerry raised a hand to her face, going for Alana’s mask when her fingers shot out and grabbed his wrist. “No.” He blinked at her curiously. “Let’s…” Alana tried to smile seductively. “Let’s leave the masks on.”

Jerry smirked, tilting his head. “Whatever you say, mystery girl.” Capturing her mouth again, one of Jerry’s sizable hands tiptoed down her torso and between Alana’s legs, delicately petting her lips before spreading her open and circling her clit with the tip of a single finger. 

Alana wove her fingers into the hair at the base of his neck, careful not to disturb the band of Jerry’s mask as her other hand crept down to encircle his thick cock. Pumping lightly, she fought to keep kissing him as Jerry added a couple more fingers, applying direct pressure to her clit, getting her slick and anxious until she rolled her pelvis into his hand again and again.

“How’s that, beautful?” Jerry breathed, lips brushing over the sensitive skin of her neck. “Do you like that?”

Clinging to Jerry’s shoulder as he rubbed over her clit, Alana moaned. “Yes, Jerry. I love it. You feel so good…”

Tracing the edge of her ear with his tongue, Jerry drew Alana’s lobe between his lips, then gave a gentle nip. “You want more? You want me to use my mouth, gorgeous?”

Hand flashing over his cock, Alana nodded insistently. “Yes. Yes, please, Jerry.”

Grinning, Jerry joined their mouths for a moment, knitting his tongue with Alana’s passionately, before placing a hand in the center of her chest and guiding her back on the table. Taking his time, Jerry kissed, nipped, and licked his way down Alana’s body, kneeling between her thighs and hauling a leg over each shoulder.

Staring at her for a moment, Jerry hummed in appreciation as he drew his fingertips over Alana’s slit. One hand poised above, Jerry spread her apart as he sent his sculpted jaw forward, long tongue swirling to coax Alana’s swollen clit to ecstasy.

“ _ Oh Jerry! Jerry...that’s...Oh…” _ Gripping the table’s edge, Alana was tempted to fist her fingers in Jerry’s hair, but not only did she not want to disturb the mask, but it was an open secret at Pinnacle that Jerry wore a hairpiece, and the last thing she wanted to do in the midst of their passion was embarrass him.

Strong hands securing her hips to the table, Jerry was voracious, and when his lips surrounded her clit, sucking fiercely, Alana’s back arched and she released a tremulous scream. 

“ _ Jerry! Yes! JERRY!”  _ Heels digging into his back, Alana’s thighs shook violently as she dripped down his chin, body seeming to drive her pelvis into his sculpted face of its own volition as her eyes twitched and her mouth wordlessly formed his name again and again. 

Emerging and wiping his mouth, Jerry adjusted his mask which had been knocked askew in his ministrations. Picking up his discarded slacks, Jerry rifled through the pockets for a condom, rolling it over himself. A hand climbed up Alana’s body as he positioned himself between her legs. Holding the head of his cock against her entrance, he peered into her face, Alana trying to catch her breath.

“Are you ready, lovely?”

Gazing up at Jerry, expression tender, blue eyes glittering behind the black mask, his thumb polishing her cheekbone as his glorious naked body stood before her, Alana etched the image into her mind forever. “Yes, Jerry.”

Tipping forward, Jerry met her lips as he inched his way inside. Alana gasped at the stretch as Jerry groaned at the pressure. Once fully sheathed, Alana looked and saw him hovering above her, eyes closed and taking deep breaths as Jerry placed a thumb over her clit, fiddling her in time with his strokes. 

Tongues exploring one another’s mouths, their bodies developed a pleasant cadence, rocking together in rhythm as Alana braced her heels on the edge of the table and undulated her hips to meet every swivel of Jerry’s powerful body.

“ _ Oh Jerry! Yes! Just like that!” _ Alana wasn’t a woman with an abundance of experience. Many of her sexual trysts consisted of quiet, fast encounters in dark rooms or the back seats of cars with men she felt obligated to sleep with after a handful of dates, and rarely did they manage to bring her to anything approaching ecstasy. 

But Jerry’s hands, his mouth, his body; they all combined to lure pleasure from Alana she never thought possible, his cock penetrating her depths and hitting spots she didn’t know she possessed as unholy sounds trickled from her lips, ringing from the walls of the reception room.

“You like that, beautiful?” Large hand cupping her face with his free hand, Jerry’s chest heaved as he panted above her. “Do I make you feel good? You like having me inside of you?”

Fluttering around his cock now, Alana drove herself forward. “ _ Yes, Jerry! Yes! Don’t stop! _ ” Jerry pounded into her with vigor, spurred on by her words. Contracting around him, Alana’s vision went hazy and the sounds; screaming, clapping of flesh, seemed to belong to a different reality as all that Alana could absorb was the sensations of her body, where Jerry’s flesh joined hers. One of Alana’s heels slipped from the table’s edge in her convulsions but Jerry held her aloft, thrusting at a slower pace as the room gradually came back into focus for Alana.

Bending over her, Jerry cradled Alana’s head in one of his large hands, the other taking hers, bringing Alana’s fingers to his lips and kissing them before interlacing them with his own. 

Hands clasped between their bodies, Jerry kissed Alana, movements of his mouth growing uncoordinated as he hammered forth. 

“ _ You’re beautiful. You’re so damn beautiful…”  _ Jerry whispered, table creaking threateningly beneath them as whimpers grew in his throat. Resting half his weight on top, Jerry lifted a knee and with his forehead glued to Alana’s began humping shamelessly. “ _ Yes! Yes! I’m going to cum! Yes!”  _ With a high whine, Jerry’s hips jumped forward, shaking Alana and the table dangerously a couple of times before he quivered and settled on top of her, limp and damp.

Locking her legs around his back, Alana peppered kisses along his crisp jawline, purring contentedly and holding Jerry near. She found the weight of his body reassuring, and as he gathered himself and made to stand, Alana didn’t want to let him go.

Seeing Jerry there, flushed, retrieving his boxers from the floor, Alana suddenly felt nauseous. How many women had been seduced by Jerry Wallach? Alana was just another number, right? And what’s more, she wasn’t even a particularly  _ important  _ number. In fact, she was probably the lowest of the low. After all, this was a man who had been married to Faye Dunaway, for goodness sakes. And who was Alana? A schlubby nobody who glued sequins to spandex for a living. 

Jerry was zipping up his pants when, pink faced and eyes stinging, Alana hurriedly snapped on her bra, pulled on her panties and the dress, zipping it up in a flash, stepped into the heels, grabbed her purse and rushed out of the room.

“Hey!” Jerry turned around, shirt in hand. Door swinging open, Alana couldn’t look back at him. “Where are you going?  _ Wait! _ ” Yelling floating after her, Alana ran back down the way they came, disappearing back through the door and into the party, which was at such a fever pitch now that no one took much notice. Grateful for the mask that hid her wet face, Alana rifled in her bag for her car keys and once inside, she laid her head on the steering wheel, sobbing.

***

Back at work on Monday, everyone was abuzz reminiscing about the party, but all Alana wanted to do was block it out and fixate on her sewing. She couldn’t help but overhear, however, the other ladies gossiping.

“ _ Did you see that woman Jerry was dancing with?” “Yeah, who was that?” “I bet it was one of the dancers.” “Nah, too short to be a dancer, probably an actress, you know how Jerry is with actresses.” “Did anyone talk to her?” “Oh yeah, I did. She was kind of stuck up…” _

The last comment actually got the corner of Alana’s mouth to tick up, despite her misery. No matter how hard she tried to think only of patterns and the next order, her mind drifted to Jerry. His smile, his body, the soft, vulnerable sounds he made when he was inside of her. Jerry’s face floated before her mind like a dangling pocket watch, swinging back and forth, lulling her into a trance that was equal parts self-loathing and yearning.

Staying silent, Alana got through the week, grateful when Thursday came to an end as she had Friday off and could go home, try to block Jerry, Pinnacle, and everything associated with the place from her mind as she sank into a scalding hot bath.

***

Sitting at his desk, Jerry rapped his fingers on the top, thinking. The past week had been a stressful one, aggravated by the fact that he couldn’t shake the woman in the teal dress from his mind. Her soft lips, the taste of her smooth skin, the way her body curved beneath his touch, Jerry was mesmerized, and he had yet to discover her identity. Since Monday, Jerry approached everyone he could think of, and nothing. He even asked Johnny Matthews, a man who never let him down once when it came to securing the phone number of any Hollywood bigwig Jerry should need to contact, and yet he came up empty. 

Jerry was pondering the mystery woman’s escaping heels when his secretary buzzed. “Mr. Walters to see you, sir.”

“Thank you, Darla. Send him in, please.” Standing and taking a step toward the door, Jerry’s jacket caught on the corner of his desk, ripping a few inches up the seam. “Damn.” He fingered the loose fabric, frowning. Proceeding to the door, he apologized to Walters for his disheveled appearance and went about his meeting.

Once he had a free moment, Jerry strode down to the costume department. Peering inside, he saw the various sewing-machine laden desks sat empty and silent. Looking at his watch, he assumed the ladies must be on their lunch break and, sauntering up to the desk of the woman who so kindly replaced his button weeks before, figured he would leave the jacket along with a note for when she returned.

Jerry pulled open the top drawer of the desk and when he saw the contents, he dropped his jacket on the floor. Staring up at him was the teal and silver mask worn by the mystery woman from the party. He would’ve recognized it anywhere. Lifting it gingerly from its resting place, Jerry delicately ran his fingers over the feathers, swallowing. Then he began looking around frantically, but there was no one to be found.

A moment later, a brunette came around the corner carrying a cup of coffee. “Oh hello, Mr. Wal—“

“The woman!” Jerry pointed feverishly at the desk. “The woman who works here! What is here name?”

Blinking, the brunette pulled her head back. “You mean Alana?”

Sighing with relief, Jerry knew it started with an ‘A,’ but he couldn’t recall. “Yes, Yes, Alana.” He advanced on the brunette, mask gripped in his hand and wild-eyed. She looked a little alarmed, but Jerry was too wound up to back down. “Where is she? I need to see her.”

“It’s-It’s her day off, Mr. Wallach.” Stammering, the brunette took a step away. 

Nodding and scratching his chin, Jerry pocketed the mask. “Alright. Alright then. Alana what? What’s her last name?” 

“Sable, sir.” The brunette nodded. “Alana Sable.”

Jerry nearly broke into a run, thanking the woman as he went. Getting to his office, he asked Darla to look for the information on an Alana Sable, in the costume department. Address in hand, Jerry climbed into his car.

***

Yawning, Alana padded through the house. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for her to stay in her pajamas for the entirety of her day off, and as she scratched at the messy bun of hair on top of her head, peering in the fridge for the dozenth time, only to find no new food appeared, she sighed. 

A knock came at the door and Alana groaned, figuring Mrs. Handler from next door must’ve gotten some of her mail again. Every time this happened, the woman prattled on with insufferable small talk, keeping Alana captive for ten minutes or more while she described the social lives of her cats which she apparently found deeply fascinating. Opening the door and barely containing her rolling eyes, it took Alana half a moment to register who stood before her.

Jerry, strong arms behind his back in his shirtsleeves, smiled down at Alana from her welcome mat. “Hello, Alana.” 

Broad smile flashing and blue eyes sparkling, Alana froze, mouth agape, for what felt like an eternity before finally clearing her throat and blinking. “H-hello, Mr. Wallach. Um...d-did...I mean...how...how can I help you? Is there a problem at the studio?” Alana became exceedingly aware of the fact that she was wearing a four sizes too large t-shirt that looked as though a sumo wrestler rolled around in bleach over her torn sweatshorts. Humiliated, she casually tried to inch her body behind the wall.

“Yes, I’m afraid we do have a problem.” Jerry continued grinning, and extracting his arm from behind his back, he presented Alana’s teal and silver mask.

Alana stared. The feathers fluttered in the gentle California breeze as she heard the blood pounding in her ears. Eyes rising to meet his, Jerry beamed back at her and Alana lifted a trembling hand to cover her mouth, shaking her head. “I’m...I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Tears threatening, Alana knew she had to escape, she couldn’t let Jerry see her fall apart. “Forgive me, sir.” 

Closing the door and turning inside, Jerry quickly wedged his loafer in between the door and frame. “Alana, wait…” Still looking away from him, Alana covered her face. “Why are you always running away from me?” Wiping her face, Alana shook her head, afraid to speak. Jerry leaned into the gap, lowering his voice. “Can I just come inside? Talk to you?  _ Please?” _

Hugging herself, even in her shame Alana found she couldn’t deny him. Nodding, she let the door swing open and walked inside to her couch, taking a couple of tissues to blot her face as Jerry sat beside her. 

Tilting his head, Jerry tried to catch her eye, but Alana stared resolutely at the floor. “Will you tell me why you left that night?” He asked softly.

After a couple of minutes of hand wringing and teeth grinding, Alana hoped her voice wouldn't come out thick. She was wrong. “I left because…” She took a breath. “I left because I knew, that, um...I knew that if you found out who I was, who I really am, that, um…” Alana stared at the ceiling, blinking. “That you would regret what happened. You wouldn’t...I mean…” Swallowing hard, Alana folded the tissue in half for want of something to do with her hands. “I know I’m not good enough for you, Jerry.”

Jerry tentatively extended a hand, resting it lightly on Alana’s shoulder. “Says who?”

Red-rimmed eyes turning to him, Alana took in his smiling, sincere face, but her mind was threaded with doubt. “Jerry, you marry movie stars.” She shook her head. “You date models. You don’t want anything to do with someone like me.”

“Don’t you think…” Jerry wove an errand strand of hair behind Alana’s ear. “I should make that choice for myself?” Taking Alana’s hand in his own, Jerry looked between them. “Now I know it was...it was just one night, but…” His eyes flicked up to hers. “But I think it could be something real. If we let it. And I wouldn’t let something silly like what you do for a living stop that..” Leaning in, Jerry cupped her face. “Alana, you’re captivating. And beautiful. And if you’re willing, I want to try.”

Breath hitching, Alana hardly dared to press into his touch. “Really?”

“Yes.” 

Dipping forward, Jerry touched his lips to hers and tears continued to flow from Alana’s eyes, but now from joy as Jerry took her in his arms, pulling her onto his lap. Using the opportunity of removing her shirt, Alana wiped her face and Jerry’s agile hands massaged her bare breasts as she ground herself into him, moaning into his mouth.

“ _ Jerry...I wanted you so badly...”  _ The head of his cock skated over her clit through the shorts and slacks, Alana boring down for more friction.

“Alana…” Kneading her ass, Jerry thrust into her, dragging her hips against himself. Standing, Alana hurriedly shed her shorts and panties and, flushing a condom from his pocket, Jerry pooled his pants and boxers around his ankles. 

Straddling him, Jerry’s hand traveled between Alana’s thighs as she caught his lips, licking into his mouth. Fingers spinning over her clit, Alana rutted against him, moaning with her arms draped about Jerry’s neck. Jerry inserted two lengthy fingers deep inside of her, thumb twirling over her clit as he angled up to pulse into the soft bundle of nerves, causing Alana’s eyes to twitch and dig her nails into his shirt.

“ _ Oh Jerry! Yes! Right there!”  _ Rolling her hips forward, Alana’s mouth hung open as he surged his arm forward, artfully teasing her clit.

Alana’s body tightened around him and Jerry quickened his handiwork. “Mmm...how’s that?” Jerry sucked her nipple into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue. “I want to make you feel so good, Alana.”

Driving herself down, Jerry’s fingers were slick with the evidence of her desire as Alana’s thighs quaked and the pitch of her moans rose. “ _ Jerry! Yes! I love it! Yes!”  _ Body contracting, Alana’s knees wove in and out as her voice stuttered and she clung to Jerry helplessly. Withdrawing, Jerry pulled her near, kissing the spot where her neck joined her jaw and lightly grazing her with his teeth.

Leaning back, Alana gazed into his dark blue eyes before taking his face in both hands, claiming those light pink lips for her own and imparting a kiss that spoke all the things for which there weren’t words. Raising herself, Alana hovered for a moment over Jerry’s substantial cock before sinking down in one fluid motion, head tossed back and humming in satisfaction. 

Rotating her hips to ensconce him inside, Alana began to bounce, Jerry’s hand slithering between them to stimulate her clit as she held to the back of his neck. Alana’s hair came undone from her bun as she recklessly rode, slamming herself down on Jerry's thick cock.

“ _ Yes! Jerry! Yes! You feel so good!”  _ With every resounding note there was a fresh downstroke and Jerry twisted his heels into the carpet for leverage, upper back braced on the couch to better hammer into Alana as she worked above him.

“ _ Alana! Yes! I love being inside of you! Yes!” Jerry bit his lip, whimpers  _ growing in his chest as the increasing pressure of Alana’s body around his sensitive cock brought him close to the precipice. 

“ _ Jerry! Jerry! Yes!”  _ Cheeks together, arms around, not a hair's breadth between them, Alana and Jerry hurriedly pulsed, shrieking and whining, sweating and scratching until both bodies strained, frozen in one moment of mutual weakness before seizing and shivering, they collapsed together, sweaty and sated.

Alana stayed on top of Jerry for a long time, tracing his prominent eyebrows, kissing his crisp jawline, playing with his dark chest hair. Worshipping the glorious man whom she’d admired from afar for so long as his hands soaked up her creamy skin, grinning.

Eventually climbing off, Jerry lifted his slacks and Alana crawled under his arm, content to lie naked for a while, basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking. Combing his fingers through her hair, Jerry lowered a kiss to the top of Alana's head. “I’m so glad I found you, Alana.”

“Me too.” She tipped her head up and touched his face. “Thank you for looking for me.”

Grinning, Jerry gave Alana a brief kiss. “Promise you won’t run away this time?”

Alana beamed. “Promise.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read! If you enjoyed this story please leave a comment or come say hi on tumblr at fandomtransmandom. I also take requests!


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